


Harry Potter and the Curse from the Sea

by EdelAeris



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, My take on an eigth year, Post DH, Romance, Slight AU where they go back, The trio goes back to Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdelAeris/pseuds/EdelAeris
Summary: Voldemort’s gone. Why isn’t Hogwarts quite right? (An 8th-year adventure)To Muggles, Harry Potter was nothing more than a regular eighteen-year-old student off to wherever his school might be. Perfectly normal, thank you very much. Harry would have chuckled at the thought had he not been cursing his perceived idiocy, the sole reason for his predicament.Thanks to TheDistantDusk for helping me with the summary.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 13





	1. The decision

As every First of September, King's Cross was overcrowded. Families with heavy carriers were hurrying left and right, children trying to keep up with their older siblings and, as though purposefully ignored, a lone young man jostling to get to a seemingly regular wall between platforms 9 and 10. Struggling as he was, he felt, however, thankful for the crowd's lack of interest in him. To Muggles, Harry Potter was nothing more than a regular eighteen-year-old student off to wherever his school might be. Perfectly normal, thank you very much. Harry would have chuckled at the thought had he not been cursing his perceived idiocy, the sole reason for his predicament.

A dog had distracted him enough that he had lost his group and missed the turn a few streets away from the station. Fortunately, it was not out of character for him to wander around since the events of last Spring. He did not doubt that his companions went on without a second thought and boarded the train. He, however, worried that she would get the wrong idea. Would she think he had gotten cold feet at the last minute? His heart began racing as the thought formed in his mind. He cursed under his breath as his sweaty palm accidentally let go of the handle of his trunk.

Brilliant! He thought angrily as all his belongings crashed onto the ground. Now he was sure to miss the train. Maybe, just maybe, if he could get out his wand-

A familiar flowery whiff interrupted his thought. He looked up from the chaos on the floor to meet the gaze of Ginny Weasley. And what a gaze it was. A delicate amused and somewhat defiant smile was gracing her face. She looked glorious from where he stood, or rather, ducked. The autumn light filtering through the windows made her red hair look as though on fire. Suddenly very self-conscious, Harry realised that she had said something, but he had no idea what it may have been. He felt hot under the collar as another wave of perfume reached his nose. A strange humming in his ears had drowned the crowd's ruckus as well as his ex-girlfriend's words.

_ Oh. _

And just like that, the spell broke. Ginny Weasley. His ex-girlfriend. The one he had rudely avoided all summer was standing before him while he looked like an absolute fool.  He must have been the most idiotic boy in all of Britain for the last couple of months and until a second ago.

How? Well, it had all begun in the middle of May 1998.

The days following the battle have been full of burials of loved ones, grief, and sorrow. But also rebuildings: families rekindling after freeing the Imperiused, numerous arrests of Ministry officials led to substantial institutional reforms under Kingsley Shacklebolt's guidance, and the scarred grounds of Hogwarts started to heal slowly but surely. Harry had been grateful for the distraction. All this work had been a way to stay away from the Burrow and the grieving Weasley family. Despite Molly's reassurance, he could not help but feel like an intruder on top of all the guilt. He had been doing his best not to dwell on those intrusive ideas, but every time he saw George, Harry could not help but sink back. He had seemed to have taken it upon himself to carry his family through the whole ordeal. He bore a determined expression, and his stare remained cold. Harry had not seen him smile once since the battle; neither had Ron or Hermione. His demeanour changed even more as his twin's funeral approached.

On the night of the 17th of May, two days before the obsequies, Harry had been invited to the Burrow. He and Hermione had been staying at Hogwarts as not to overwhelm the already mourning family. In all honesty, it had come as a relief. He did not feel ready to look them in the eyes, and he'd sooner not think about the situation with Ginny if he could help it. However, Fate seemed to have other plans for him as he soon found out.

Supper had been delicious, if not overeager. Judging by the glances she had thrown his way, Hermione had thought the same. Mrs Weasley had been trying to put on a strong facade, so had the entire family. Yet, as Harry came back to the loo in the middle of the night, he could not help but overhear sobs coming from the parents' room. A wave of nausea washed over him as guilt coursed through his entire body. His forehead felt cold with sticky, uncomfortable sweat. His hand found a wall, and he bent over, breathing heavily in order not to vomit. Shuddering and feeling pathetic, the perspective of going back to Ron's stuffy room filled him with more anguish. Slowly, he made his tedious way to the kitchen, intending to maybe go for a walk.

His plans were, however, foiled once he arrived downstairs. Ginny was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. Her eyes were red, and her hair messy. She gave him a small smile that did not reach her eyes once she noticed him, which made his inside knot. He swallowed.

"Can't sleep?" Was this his actual voice?

"How observant of you." She answered, barely looking at him.

He shrugged, not willing to give her an occasion to tease him any more than necessary. Shifting from one foot to the other, he could not help but notice how pale she looked. Her lips and hair contrasted beautifully with her face, but her eyes were glassy and puffy.

She must have cried, he realised.

"So..." She cleared her throat. "Care for a walk?"

"S-Sure." he stuttered.

Following her outside, he wished the awkwardness would vanish soon. He had not expected her to wait for him, but he had hoped, longed for the slightest sign that she still fancied him, at least a little. Yet, nothing of the sort transpired. The fact that this was even making him upset in the first place made him feel miserable. How could he be so egotistical when everyone was hurting so much?

The fresh night air did not help with his boiling mind. They just walked in silence for a while until they reached the orchard. Once on top of the hill, Ginny turned to him, opening and closing her mouth. It was destabilising to see her so diffident.

"I..." she hesitated "Are you coming to the funeral?"

"I-Sure, I mean, if it does not bother your parents-"

In truth, none of the Weasleys had asked him to come until that moment. Harry had just assumed that they had rather stayed between themselves.

"Oh, come off it!" She rolled her eyes. "You are practically part of the family, Harry dear."

Her near-perfect imitation of her mother made him chuckle.

"Can't say no after that, can I?"

"I dare you, Potter." Her grin morphed into a softer smile. Harry found that she looked lovely, but then, again when didn't she?

"It would mean a lot to me, you being here." Her voice was almost down to a whisper. "To Fred, too, I'm sure." Her tone became almost pleading, turning Harry's stomach in knots.

"I'll be there." His voice broke a little but seemed more confident. She brushed his arm with her hand, and the ground disappeared from beneath his feet.  "I promise."

His oath revealed itself, however, worthless when, after a disastrous morning at the Ministry involving expired potions and an over-enthusiastic owl, Harry had taken the wrong portkey and ended up somewhere in Northern France.

In what seemed at first like a fortunate turn of events, a rookie Ministry official managed to schedule him a last-minute portkey, but as Harry grabbed the old deerstalker, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that it was too good to be true. He did not have the time to mourn his wasted seer career as he crashed right in the middle of the aisle. Dishevelled and mortified, Harry scanned the crowd for familiar faces. He did not have to search for long as his gaze landed immediately on Ginny. Her brows furrowed in an impenetrable expression. The young wizard took a step towards her but was cut off in his tracks by Ron. His best mate had jumped out of his chair as soon as he appeared to check for injuries.

"You alright?" he frantically whispered "What happened? Mum is having kittens!"

Harry cursed under his breath.

"I'll explain later."

The rest of the funeral went on relatively calmly after his arrival, but his insides were twisting and turning more than ever. As the crowd scattered in the general direction of the buffet, Harry spotted Mr and Mrs Weasley.

He spent the rest of the day apologising, trying his best to help around, and, to be honest with himself, avoiding Ginny. If he had had a choice, he would have gone up to her and-

And then what?

He didn't know.

He could not confront her as long as he did not have the answer. At least, he tried to convince himself of that.

The following weeks did not even give him the luxury of trying to avoid the youngest Weasley. The trials, the missing Death Eaters list the Ministry was drafting, and the rebuildings kept him busier than he could ever wish to be. Plus, because of her compensatory sessions, she was never at the Burrow when he was. This way, they managed to exchange no more than polite greetings once or twice a week. While he knew he ought to feel reassured by this lack of conflictual situations, Harry could not help but wish she would come up to him and declare that she had waited for him and still fancied him. Kicking himself for not being able to do it himself, he settled on looking at her longingly from the window in Ron's room as she left the Burrow in the morning.

Until a Sunday morning in the middle of July. Ron, Hermione and himself were planning their journey to Australia when Ginny walked him. She caught his eyes and smiled timidly at him. His heart skipped a beat. Then he realised that she was pointing at her brother and his girlfriend, who had decided that her arrival was a good enough distraction for Harry while they flirted unabashedly.

Rolling her eyes and grinning, she poured herself a cup of tea. She had barely risen it to her lips that she slammed it back on the counter. Four owls barged in through the open window.

"Mum!" Ginny called. "The Hogwarts letters are here!"

Hogwarts.

Harry had forgotten about his seventh year! McGonagall had offered them to come back to finish their education, but he had not decided what he would do, yet. A fluffy barn owl was carrying the parchment bearing his name.

_ Mr Harry James Potter _

_ The Burrow _

_ Ottery St Catchpole, Devon _

The letter was light. There was only the school supply list, and nothing else.

Ginny gasped, and Harry did not have to look up to know why.

"McGonagall made  _ you _ team captain?!"

Mrs Weasley, who had just entered the room, let out a shriek at her son's word.

"Ginny!" She rushed in to hug her. "I'm so proud of you, dear! We have to celebrate! We might be a bit tight on money right now, but if you are ready to wait for a bit, we can get you wh-"

"Mum!" She hugged her back. "It's alright! I don't need anything!"

It was a lie, and Harry knew it. Ginny was an exceptional player, but her broom was not up to par. She caught his eyes once more and positively beamed at him. A warm rush of affection and pride swept through him, and he smiled back.

"Well done! You deserve it!"

Her smile became even more radiant at his words.

"Aw, thanks! But you can't charm your way back on the team, Potter." She grinned. "You'd better start training now!"

Harry winced, and her smile faded right off her face. A heavy silence fell onto the kitchen.

A small "Oh." escaped her lips.

Crestfallen, she turned to Ron and Hermione, who avoided her gaze, then back at Harry.

"... Alright, then."

Without another word, she left the room.

Harry did not see Ginny for the remainder of July. A few days after getting their letter, they left for Australia. He knew he had to make a decision but was going back the best course of actions? Clutching the letter, he noticed how visible the scars left by Umbridge still were.

It did not take long to find Mr and Mrs Granger, but lifting the charm and conviving them to let Hermione out of her sight in the foreseeable did. Yet, it was not Harry's prerogative. He had left the task to his best mate whose handling of the situation was surprisingly graceful.

One night, where he had left them to get dinner on his own, he decided that he could not push back any longer. Hermione and Ron had already chosen to complete their education, and the due date was approaching. He knew what he had to do. It was for the best. He had to earn his place, and to that end, he had to go back. And he had to let Ginny know. She had to understand that he never stopped thinking about her and that now was no different.

"Great, you'd better buy yourself a broom." had been her answer.

He had come back from Australia three days before his friend and with a clear goal in mind. The night had fallen when he knocked on Ginny's window. To his relief, she was not asleep.

"Harry?" She frowned. "What are you doing here?"

He grinned as he replied. "Giving you an early birthday present. Come down, quick!"

A few minutes later, they were both on the lawn.

"I'm glad to see you followed my advice." She noted, pointing at the broom in his hand.

"Oh, it's not mine." She frowned even more deeply than before as he handed it to her.

"Happy birthday, Ginny." He smiled sheepishly. But she did not answer as he expected.

"No."

"No?" He blinked incredulously. "B- Why?"

"Oh, come on!"

"You don't like it?"

"Harry!" She crossed her arms and sighed. "I just can't accept it. It's just..." She paused. "It's just too much."

Crestfallen, Harry could not form a coherent answer. He had not imagined this exchange going the way it did. As to comfort him, she patted his arm.

"You don't have a broom, do you? You need it more than I do."

"B-But," he stammered "your birthday-"

"Not falling off during a Quidditch match would be a pleasant gift." She chuckled. "You don't owe me anything, you know? Besides..." She threw a glance at a shed in the orchard on his right before turning back to him, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "I may or may not have the whole broomstick thing covered."

Intrigued, he followed her to the shed.

"George and I have had this little project of ours for the last three weeks or so." She lifted off the cloth from an unusual broom. While it did not seem ready to explode or to turn purple, it was unlike any racing broom Harry had ever seen.

"So ?" She leaned toward him, a triumphant expression on her face.

"How?"

"Well, you see, my dear Potter." Her sufficient facade fell as she smirked once more. " The twin and I have been salvaging old broomsticks left and right since Christmas of my fifth year." Her smile became sad. "Anyway! We've built it ourselves!"

Nonplussed, Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Does it work?"

"Dunno, but it flies, though." As to prove her word, she left the shed and mounted her broom. "Care for a flight?"

It had been their last interaction until the end of the holidays. Harry was not even sure it had happened, it felt like something out of a dream, just as those sunlit days back in the sixth year, just as the way he was drowning in her eyes at the moment.

"Harry?"

_ Shoot! The train! _

"Y-Yeah! Sorry, didn't hear you."

"Hurry up!" Ginny put back the last stranded book in his trunk. "It's leaving in five minutes!"

They rushed through the wall separating platforms 9 and 10, but Harry had no time to marvel at the Hogwarts Express. They dashed through the crowd, shouting goodbyes at the Weasley family as the clumsily got on their wagon.

Just as Harry's foot got in, the doors closed and the crashed inside in an unceremonious mess of limbs. Still high on adrenaline, they began shaking with laughter as the train departed. It took them a couple of minutes to regain their composure as each time one of them managed to calm down even slightly, the other doubled down. Ginny was the first to get up and offered him a hand that he accepted. His leg had fallen asleep under his trunk, and his straightening up had been less graceful than intended. Ginny almost fell back into a fit of giggles but was interrupted by their fellow Gryffindors: Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan.

"Ginny!" The former had cried. "How have you been?"

Harry groaned internally. Everything had been going so well until then, but Dean surprised him by greeting him with the same enthusiasm. After catching up a bit, Seamus and Dean went on their way.

"There is room in our compartment if you'd like!"

They had informed them before leaving, and Harry and Ginny were now alone in the narrow corridor. He felt a flush creeping up his neck until Ginny reminded him that they had to put his trunk in the luggage rack. As he leaned over to get the handle, he realised that Ginny had not let go of his hand in hers during the whole exchange. A goofy grin appeared on his face.

Who was he, after all, to make her do so?


	2. Apolline Delacour

Hogwarts was standing in all its glory. The castle looked anew, but the land had been ploughed during the battle and wore deep furrows as though scarred. An evening mist had fallen on the grounds, but nothing could darken Harry's mood. He had been talking and joking and laughing with Ginny for the entire journey, and it had been brilliant. He had been smiling so much his cheeks hurt. However, as they climbed into the carriage with their friends, he couldn't help but notice strange lights at the fringe of the woods. His investigation was cut short by the arrival of Hagrid. The half-giant beamed at them.

"Hagrid!" Hermione cried. "How are you? You look exhausted!" 

"Er, there's been a lot goin' on..." His eyes shifted to the edge of the forest. "Am not sure of what it is, yet... Anyway, I'd better go. The first years are waitin'. Take care now."

He patted the Thestrals and went on his way.

"Seems preoccupied, doesn't he?"

"How observant, Ron." 

He grunted at his sister's jab but ultimately ignored it.

"I can understand," he went on. "The place looks dodgy at best lately."

"Yes..." Luna seemed as though she had just woken. "Daddy told me that dark energies are flowing in from all over-"

"Anyway!" Hermione interjected. "How has your summer been, Neville?"

Harry's attention quickly drifted back to Ginny. She, too, had given up on their friend overly technical conversation on tropical mandragoras and was flashing him a radiant smile. He was about to make a witty comment until something behind her caught his eye. A large, black dog was sitting on a rock a few meters away. Without thinking, he leaned forward to see better, but the dog had walked into the forest. 

"Oi!"

Ron yell interrupted his train of thoughts. He turned to his friends who were staring at him.

"I think you're coming off a bit strong there, Potter."

A chuckle came from under him. In his haste, he had not noticed that his arms were on each side of Ginny. 

"I don't mind the view, but at least take off your-"

His best mate let out another scandalized cry, and Ginny burst out laughing. Harry sat back down as fast as he could, his neck starting to get hot. 

"Oh, come on, Ron! It's not like we are going to have passionate-"

"Stop. Talking."

"What? Am I to assume that you can't stand the word-"

"Ginny!"

Mortified, Harry wished for the Thestral to go rogue and bite his head off, granting him the sweet delivery of death. He wondered whether Dumbledore would be there to welcome him, this time. What would he tell his old mentor? _Thanks for all the advice about Voldemort, and all. But how do you talk to girls? Especially the one you ditched to fight an almost immortal, genocidal madman? And that you have ignored for most of a year?_

Unfortunately, Ginny kept teasing her brother for the entire ride to the castle, and the Thestral superbly ignored his silent pleas. He was little else than a puddle of embarrassment as he climbed out of the carriage and made his way to the Great Hall. Still fuming, Ron was fortunately too busy shooting death glare at his sister to pay his friend any mind. The room looked as though the events of the previous year had been nothing but a bad dream. Harry could hardly believe that he had, only a few months ago, been duelling Voldemort to death in this very place. Where bodies once laid stood elegant candles and polished cutlery. The previously broken benches were now whole and inviting. Stars shyly twinkled on the enchanted ceiling; their light kept at bay by the last rays of the setting sun. 

A dreamy voice pulled him from his haunting thoughts.

"I wonder who the new Defense teacher is..."

"Bill knows!" Ron interjected.

"Yes, but he wouldn't tell us." Ginny finished.

Hermione and Neville began to speculate as they sat at the Gryffindor table and Luna left for the Ravenclaw. McGonagall and the new professor had not arrived, yet, but Harry could not care less. Ginny had sitten next to him, and he could feel her thigh against his. Her delicate perfume was making him dizzy, and her voice was music to his ears. It was pure bliss and, yet, so straining to be so close to her. He wanted to take her hand, hold her in his arms... But his fantasy faded as silence fell upon the great hall. 

A very tired looking McGonagall had entered, followed by a beautiful blond middle-aged woman. Richly dressed in silk and satin, her heels were clicking on the marble floor, and her golden jewels reflected the candlelight. 

"Fleur's mum!" Ron gasped.

Hermione slapped her forehead.

"Of course!"

"What do you mean, 'of course'?" 

She rolled her eyes.

"Fleur told us that she had been a Dark Arts professor at Beauxbatons."

"She did?"

"If you spent less time ogling and more time listening..." Ginny remarked, earning herself a rude hand gesture from her brother. 

"Because _you_ listen to Fleur?" Harry whispered to her, playful. 

She raised an eyebrow, grinning. 

"Never said so. Do _you_?"

The whispers eventually subsided as the headmistress, and the new professor reached the staff table. 

The first years followed suit, and so did Hagrid, holding the Sorting Hat. 

As Caleb Wallace, a small boy with dark hair left the seat for the Slytherin table; Harry finally noticed how empty it was. The few students present had bunched up on one end of the benches. 

"Those cowards didn't dare come back."

"Ron!" Hermione furiously whispered. 

"What? I-"

But what he was about to say, Harry never had the chance to know. McGonagall had started her start of term speech. He felt a lump in his throat as the image of Dumbledore came back into his mind. 

"Welcome to Hogwarts! And to the familiar faces..." A warm smile appeared on her face as she scanned the hall, clashing with her strict manners. "Welcome back." Regaining her demeanour, she went on. "I will keep this speech brief as I know how much you are anticipating the feast."

"Thanks, Merlin..." Ron muttered.

"I would like to introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Madam Delacour."

Fleur's mother waved gracefully at the clapping students, which only resulted in some of them whooping while grinning goofily.

"Erm- That will do!" McGonagall wore a disapproving look. "As I was saying..."

But Harry did not pay attention to the rest of her words. He had noticed that all the ghosts huddled in a corner. Their heads -- for those who had one -- bent as though deep in conversation. He strained his ear, but it was no use. The headmistress' speech had ended, and the clinking of silverware was so loud he could barely hear Ron and Hermione bickering. Sighing, he caught Ginny's eyes. She had been looking at him. Harry felt a deep blush creeping up his face, and the usual waves of hope and worry flowed through his stomach. She gave him a coy smile before getting distracted by Neville and his new stupid plant. Harry grunted internally as his chest tightened. They sure seemed to have grown closer last year, haven't they? Disgusted by his assumptions about his friends, he was startled by a full plate of kidney pie and roasted potatoes appearing before him. Ginny had filled it for him and gone back to her conversation as though nothing. Granted, she was closer to the dish, but this gesture still made him feel very warm inside. 

The sensation had not vanished when he slipped under the covers and fell asleep, content. 

The next day, he had rushed downstairs in the hope of sitting next to her, but it revealed useless. Ginny was not in the Great Hall, yet. 

Disgruntled, he ate his breakfast slowly, ignoring Ron and Hermione's mooning over each other. The injustice of his best mate's behaviour when it came to his moments with Ginny struck him heavily. Tired of being the third wheel on top of having his desires for the morning crushed, he contemplated interrupting their sickening flirting but decided against it. 

"Harry! My boy!" A voice boomed from behind him. The large frame of Horace Slughorn invaded his vision. "Ms Granger! Rupert! It's a pleasure to see you!"

Ron groaned discreetly. 

"I'm sure you will be thrilled to learn that I am reinstating my famous parties. I trust you will honour us with your presence, huh?" He winked at Harry before turning back to Ron. "Oh, and, er, Roald, tell your delightful sister she is welcome, too. Oh! Silly me, there she is!" 

Harry turned his head so fast he might have snapped his neck. Ginny was walking towards the Gryffindor table, deep in conversation with Madam Hooch. 

Ron grunted. "I wonder when the try-outs will be... I can't believe that Ginny is the captain. It will be a bloody nightmare! What was McGonagall thinking?!"

Hermione frowned deeply. 

"I think she's an excellent choice." She said sharply.

"Easy for you to say, you're not on the team! She will torture me all year long! She's _mental_ when it comes to Quidditch!" He looked at Harry for support, but he just shrugged. 

"Hermione is right. She'll be way better at it than _I_ was." He said, painfully remembering the encounter between McLaggen's bat and his temple. 

"Yeah, right, you won't be a target, either! You'll just have to smile at her and she'll-"

"I'll what, brother mine?" 

Ron almost jumped out of his skin as Ginny sat down, next to Harry, which pleased him immensely. 

"I'm _knackered_." She declared. "Hooch woke me at 6 in the morning for a meeting between all the team captains. She wanted our opinion on the new Quidditch pitch, of all things!"

Her voice dropped an octave, she knitted her eyebrows and flailed her arms. 

"I don't like the way they orientated the goals, and this colour is garish. What were they thinking about when they built those stands? And have you seen the referee's booth? It will be a miracle if I can spot anything from _there_!" 

She waited for the laughter at her imitation to fade before continuing. 

"Anyway, try-outs are next Friday. You'd better practice until then." A devilish grin split her face. "I've heard there is fierce competition this year."

Ron gulped, his face was slightly pale. Harry, too, was a bit nervous. He hadn't played in a while, what if someone topped him? 


End file.
